PJO One Shots Collection

5 | Kiss the Cook - Caleo

Leo whistled and practically pranced into the kitchen to see his girlfriend holding two sweet potatoes.

I did the only rational thing in the moment.

I shimmied up against a wall and watched her.

Calypso's eyes darted between the potatoes in hand and the yellow notepad on the granite countertop. Her eyebrows raised before they pushed together. She carefully set down the produce and brought the notepad closer like she was having trouble understanding it. Her eyes scanned it for the third time and she bursted out: "I have to stab these with a fork?"

No way was I going to pass up on stabbing sweet potatoes.

I fixed the hem of my shirt and cleared my throat before sauntering into her vision. "Did I hear something about murdering vegetables?"

She opened a drawer and brought out a fork. She placed it next to the other ingredients: flour, a block of butter and some herbs of sorts. "Yeah. I don't know how I feel about it."

Her hands skillfully styled her hair up in a quick bun, then she rolled up her sleeves and washed her hands. That's when I processed her apron.

My lips stretched into a self-satisfied smile and I nodded in her direction. "Nice apron."

Her eyes snapped away from the potatoes she was frowning at. "Huh?" She smoothed out the said apron. "Oh. Sorry. Just a bit miffed by the fact that I have to stab these, it seems unnecessary...?" Though she still seemed distant.

I stepped closer and turned her to face me, successfully cutting off her musings. "Kiss the cook?" I questioned, referring to her apron.

"Oh!" She realized and failed to cover up the calligraphed words with her arms.

I perked an eyebrow skeptically. "Any reasons for wearing it?" I took another step until I was flush against her and she was basically pinned to the counter.

Calypso swatted at me half-heartedly with pink cheeks. "It's the only one beside Hemithea's "KEEP YOUR HANDS OFF MY BUNS" apron, and I'd rather wear this. Normally I wouldn't need one," she gestured to the bag of all-purpose flour with a tilt of her head, "but this recipe gets messy with lots of flour."

I sighed through my nose. A knowing smirk on my lips. "Sure. I really thought you wanted a kiss, Cal."

Her eyes sparkled, "I do-"

"Got it, pucker up!"

"-But after cooking." She poked my cheek and pushed my face away to look at the counter with the ingredients scattered about. "That means helping me out," she said with a victorious smile.

"Okay... I can stab the potatoes for you." I started reaching for them when she rested a palm on my chest.

"Wash hands first." She commanded. "Then you can, I'll prepare the cutting board for kneading."

"You got it, boss." I saluted her and briskly washed my hands - drying them as quickly by setting them on fire.

I spun the fork between my fingers. "So. How do you want me to do it?"

"Just little pricks all over them."

"Oh. That's not stabbing." Nevertheless, I still pushed the fork into them repetitively. "Now what?" I held up the decently punctured vegetables.

"Microwave."

"What? What was the point of puncturing them?" I glared at the potatoes I was slowly positioning on a plate to warm in the microwave.

She shrugged without looking up from the egg she was rolling around in her palm and the measuring cups she was tapping on. "Maybe to let the air in? Maybe they'll warm properly? To soften them?"